Dangerous Waters

by Amy J. Fetzer

  "Hell, 'scuse me, ma'am. Heck, I'd do a crime, if you'd come after me."

  "Careful, Charlie, don't let looks deceive you." Among other things, Chris thought, seeing her as they did, statuesque, tall, vibrant, but a woman. He knew better. She was tough as nails or soft as a kitten when she chose to be. She was a lady— his. And damn tired of his men fawning over her, Chris ordered them back to their posts. Reluctantly, they shuffled out, tipping their hats and Victoria experienced the respect and gentle reserve they'd offered Jenna Thorton when she was among them.

  She looked at Chris, then flew to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. Noble coughed, but Chris closed his arms around her, accepting the kiss for what it was, a thank you. He would never hide his love and respect for Victoria, no matter the cost.

  "Dang, you two."

  They pulled apart, smiling.

  "Better marry that woman quick, Chris."

  Victoria's expression instantly shattered.

  Chris's didn't. "I think I will."

  "We can't," she said, a wounded fracture in her voice. "And you know why."

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  His eyes darkened, probing hers as if he could see into her soul. "If you could, would you?"

  Victoria searched his handsome face. Stunned, she whis­pered, "You're actually serious!"

  He nodded and Noble slipped into the back room.

  "But—"

  "Forget everything else, Tori, and just answer."

  Listen to your heart for once, his eyes pleaded, and the moment stretched. For once, just listen,

  "Yes," came in a breathless burst. "If it were actually possible, I would in a heartbeat."

  His expression brightened.

  "But it won't happen."

  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I bet that's what you thought about time travel, too."

  Chapter Thirty-One

  All through lunch with Reid and Jenna, Victoria felt a little numb. Chris wanted to marry her and made it sound like a challenge. She wondered why he'd even bothered to ask her when he knew it was not possible. Did he like feeling rotten about it? She didn't want to hurt him or get hurt, but that was wishful thinking. They'd become too involved in each other not to feel pain. As if he sensed her anguish, he covered her hand, fingers flexing reassuringly, and Victoria experienced instant comfort, the sting of regret leaving her mood.

  She lifted her gaze to his. He sat lazily in his chair, one arm slung over the back. This is not reality, she knew. He makes it too easy to forget the future.

  Reid said something in Cheyenne to Chris, yet only Chris's eyes shifted.

  "What did you say?" Victoria asked,

  "He was being rude," Jenna said, nudging him hard enough for Reid to wince.

  "Forgive me, lass," Reid said, a lilting brogue in his deep voice.

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  Chris's gaze slid back to Victoria's. "He asked why we bothered to have lunch with them, since I'm dining on you."

  Victoria's eyes widened and she peered at Reid. "Excuse me?"

  Her biting look didn't effect him; he'd seen the like in his wife often enough. "It's only that the man hasna heard a word I've said in the past half hour." Reid shrugged his massive shoulders and Jenna muttered something about the finer points of horse breeding boring her to tears. "And that was not an exact translation." His gaze pinned Chris. "I said dining on your beauty."

  Victoria choked. "Fit your husband for glasses, Jenna."

  "But you are lovely." Jenna looked at Chris, blaming him for not making her her see the truth. He crossed his heart, swearing he was trying. "And such a relief from the droll ladies around here." Jenna eyed Victoria, a warning in the look. ' 'They hardly accept a woman physician doctoring their hus­bands and sons, they'll positively drop their pantaloons when they discover a woman bounty hunter."

  "Now that I'd like to see." Victoria felt an instant kinship to the red-haired woman, and they exchanged a smile.

  Chris looked at Reid, then between the women. "You sound like you're cooking up something."

  "I don't cook," Jenna and Victoria answered at once, then laughed.

  Chris's expression said he didn't care, and beneath the table, Victoria slipped her hand to his thigh. His body tightened and she flashed him an innocent smile, then looked at Reid.

  "So you going to tell me why you have a braid half way down your back and why you," she said to Jenna, "can both speak Cheyenne?''

  Jenna wiped her mouth and pushed her plate aside. She glanced at her husband. "I was rescued by a dashing Cheyenne warrior from certain death."

  Reid's eyes clouded with memory, with pain. "You almost did die, my dove," he said softly.

  She patted his hand reassuringly, yet her attention was on

  Victoria. "I was foolish and headstrong and got into a tad of trouble."

  Victoria frowned. It didn't sound like a tad.

  "It's a long story," she waved airily, "one I'll tell when we've a chance to be alone."

  It bothers her husband to hear it, Victoria realized.

  "But I was taken to a Cheyenne camp, nursed to health. That's where I met Chris and Reid."

  "You?" she said to Reid.

  "He was the adopted son of Christopher's father." Jenna smiled at her stunned look.

  "The stronger son."

  "Giant's usually are stronger," Chris quipped and Victoria recognized brotherly love in the light banter.

  Reid smirked and cuddled his wife close. "This," he flicked his braid back over his shoulder, "is a wee reminder of my heritage, and a man who gave me a home and hope when I had none." Reid and Chris exchanged a look, filled with mem­ory and boyhood friendship.

  It comforted Victoria to know he had strong ties with his friends. He'll need them when she was gone. And who will you turn to, a voice prodded, making her frown.

  "I'm sorry to end this," Jenna said dispiritedly, after check­ing the watch pinned to her dress, "but I've a patient in fifteen minutes."

  Chris stood as they did, and Jenna reached out to take Victo­ria's hand. "I'm very happy to know you. Please come visit soon." She spared a brief look at Chris. "It isn't proper that he keeps you all to himself, you know."

  Victoria felt a wealth of kindness from this young woman. Jenna was honest, with a wonderfully dry sense of humor which he let loose on men. That she was English nobility, Chris had told her, hardly mattered, yet that Jenna was also a doctor, in this century, in a mining town, was a feat worthy of Victoria's admiration. And she had a feeling her tad of trouble wasn't half as hard as gaining the respect of the people in this town.

  Reid towered over them all and leaned down to press a kiss

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  to Victoria's cheek. "He needs you so," he whispered before stepping back and shaking Chris's hand. She stared as they left, hand in hand. Through the panes of glass she caught a glimpse of Ivy League and tensed, her eyes narrowing as he tipped his hat to Jenna and strode past.

  He's out again, hunting.

  "Tori?"

  She looked up, schooling her features, then left her chair. "You have very interesting friends," Victoria said as Chris paid the bill and escorted her out of the tiny restaurant. ' 'But having lunch with them isn't the only reason we're here, is it?"

  "No, to shop."

  She made a face. "Yuck."

  His brows rose.

  "I've lived with just the essentials so long that it annoys the hell out of me." She eyed him. "And don't avoid the question."

  Chris slipped her arm through his as they walked. "I just want to see his reaction after last night."

  "That's playing with fire."

  "You said he likes watching the authorities search for clues. What would he do if nothing happened, nothing outward?" He stopped and brought her hand to his lips.

  "I don't know." He brushed his mouth over
her knuckles. "It might push him to commit another murder."

  "He'll have plenty at the summer social." He inclined his head to the poster nailed to the wall behind him and she spared it a glance.

  "A social?"

  "Big picnic with lots of children and mothers."

  "And victims." She swallowed tightly. His lips were so warm on her skin. "That's dangerous—for everyone."

  "I know." He couldn't tell her that he wanted this over with—that he wanted Becket in jail and her free to stay with him. She'd just fight him harder. "But we need to watch him work.''

  "What we need, Chris, is a hotel room."

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  His teeth clenched along with every muscle in his body. "Wouldn't the gossips love that."

  "Who cares, I would."

  Suddenly, he gathered her close and kissed her, quick and hard and through the haze of desire Victoria heard gasps of outrage and masculine chuckles. When he pulled back, he was smiling from ear to ear.

  "What was that for?" Not that she didn't like it.

  "Staking my claim."

  Normally, she would have been incredibly offended. "Sorta like a wolf marking his territory?"

  He flushed a little. "I want every man in this town to know you're off limits."

  She straightened her shoulders. "I can handle myself."

  "It's not you I'm worried about. It's what I'll do to them if they so much as touch you."

  Her lips pursed.

  "Am I smothering you?" he asked and a little fear crept into his voice.

  "No. No," she added more firmly, her hand covering his heart. "Go ahead, smother away." It was so different from being treated like one of the guys, she thought, though she knew she'd brought that on herself.

  He pressed a roll of bills in her hand. "Go have fun."

  ' This is blatantly pacifying, dear.'' Her look said she needed to be included in anything to do with Becket. "And where will you be?"

  "Acting natural." His gaze shifted to somewhere over her shoulder and she felt a chill dance up her spine.

  "It's him." Doubtless, and it always amazed him, her keen senses.

  "He likes what he sees."

  "That Makes me want to puke."

  Chris smirked, steering her past the saloon and Becket stand­ing in the doorway. "If last night did anything, we'll know it soon enough."

  "You want me to bait him?"

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  His grip tightened over her hand on his arm. "Don't even consider it."

  "I'm not fair haired." Like his victims. "But I could be a blonde by tomorrow."

  "Jesus, Tori, don't do this to me." There was absolute terror in his voice, anguish in his features.

  "Chris," she said calmingly. "We have to get him, any way we can. If setting him up to bite is the way . . ." Her words trailed off and he knew she was right.

  "Luring him with you isn't what I had in mind."

  "It's not like I want to. If we could get him away from spectators, I could zap him with my tazer and take him back."

  "He's killed here too, Tori."

  Her expression withered. "I know," came softly, guiltily, and he tipped his head close, lowering his voice.

  "I don't know how, Tori, but he'll pay in both centuries."

  At the corner he stopped, brushed a kiss to her cheek, then urged her toward the stores.

  She balked. "I hate shopping."

  "Consider it a new experience of this century."

  "What am I supposed to buy?"

  "A hat?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Oh, get real." Then she crossed the street, noticing that more than just Becket watched them.

  Chris left his office, pausing on the street to search out Victoria. He smiled when he saw her leaving a dress shop, her arms loaded with packages. Doesn't like to shop, huh? He stepped off the walk, heading toward her, but stopped short when she did. He followed her gaze.

  At the grocers, a 'woman was trying to select apples while a tired, hot child hung on her skirts, trying to yank her toward the mercantile and the candy displayed in the window.

  But it was Becket she was watching.

  Chris approached slowly, his gaze shifting to Victoria as she tucked herself back near the store entrance, seeming to adjust

  her packages. She even dropped one for effect and a cowboy retrieved it.

  Suddenly, she looked straight at him, and Chris recognized worry and fear. Discretely, she waved him back and he paused to roll a smoke, tugging his hat low over his brow.

  Careful, love. Careful.

  He was stalking. Victoria knew it as sure as she knew she loved Chris. Ivy League was hungry. Like a cat sniffing for scraps, he'd moved through town, taking everything and every­one in. She'd been one step behind him most of the afternoon. Covertly, she'd watched him, chatting, making small purchases, noting how he salivated over the mothers and their young children. It turned her stomach, and she resisted the urge to race out into the street and warn them.

  Not yet. She'd kept close to the young mother and her child when she noticed Ivy League lingering near, yet couldn' t remain without drawing his attention.

  But she'd heard enough.

  The child tugged at her skirts, pleading in a whine.

  The woman swiped damp curls from her forehead and spoke absently. "Not now, Joey, later."

  "But momma!" came long and drawn.

  "Joesph Acuff! Mommy will not hold you until I'm done."

  She ignored the whining and Victoria peered into a shop window, watching Ivy League's reflection in the glass. His hand tightened over the hilt of the cane, again and again. Then he approached the mother.

  Every muscle in Victoria's spine tensed. He wouldn't do it here, would he?

  He knelt before the child. "What's the matter, little fella? Why the* tears?"

  God, Victoria thought, how comforting his voice sounded.

  "Momma's mean to me," the child pouted and the mother looked down, giving her son a displeased look.

  "You're fine—oh, hello again."

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  Again? Victoria thought.

  "Why is she mean?" Becket said, stroking back the boy's hair.

  "I need candy."

  Becket laughed lightly, amused.

  "Oh you don't need anything, Joseph. You just ate lunch."

  Becket's eyes narrowed like a viper about to strike as he rose to meet the woman's gaze. She smiled wanely, apologizing for her son and Algenon Becket grinned. The sight of it sent a chill over Victoria's skin and she wet her dry lips, glancing back over her shoulder to where Chris leaned against a post, watching.

  Becket and the young woman moved down the walk, the child still tugging at his mother's skirts as Becket spoke to her, easing her embarrassment, flattering her with a familiarity that told Victoria he'd spent considerable time with this woman before.

  Victoria moved with them, heard him offer to buy her and her child a lemonade.

  "A generous offer but, no thank you, Mr. Becket."

  "But you're both so warm and exhausted."

  "We have to get home."

  "Surely a glass of lemonade wouldn't delay you much." He reached to take her arm and she flinched back. Becket continued to smile, apologizing for his forwardness.

  That seemed to put the woman at ease and she walked beside him, laughing at whatever he was saying.

  Becket glanced around, his gaze lighting on something, and before he could suspect her, Victoria halted before a hat shop and tapped the window for the shop keeper's attention. She gestured to a hat in the display and the owner turned over the price tag. Victoria acted suitably impressed with the bargain and smiled her thanks. The owner backed away and Victoria watched Becket, her heart beating in her throat. Clouds moved, sunlight reflecting off the glass, blinding her. What she wouldn't give for her sunglasses right now, she thought and squ
inted. Maybe a hat wasn't such a bad idea.

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  When she could finally focus she realized that the woman, child and Becket were nowhere in sight. Her head snapped back and forth, eyes seeking and she swung around and looked helplessly at Chris.

  Turning back, she gripped her packages and moved between the throngs of people. Then she spotted them. Her footsteps quick, her head down, Victoria caught the woman's words.

  "Please do not speak that way to me, Mister Becket. I'm married and love my husband dearly.'' The woman pulled away and with a glare of vengeance, Becket reached for her.

  Victoria plowed right into the man.

  She gasped, clutching her packages before they could fall. "Oh, I am so sorry. How clumsy of me," she gushed, hoping the heat gave her face the flush of embarrassment.

  The woman and her child skittered quickly away. Becket watched them go, then turned his attention to Victoria. His expression spoke of more than she wanted. He was pleased to see her, the glazed look he gave Misses Acuff turned suddenly and completely on her. He smiled thinly. Victoria pretended obliviousness and blinked innocently up at him. Slim bucket.

  He introduced himself and she oohed and ahhed appropri­ately.

  Chris nearly leaped off the walk when Becket clamped his hands on her to steady her. He could see her stiffen, yet her smile was plastered in place. Good girl. Becket offered to take her packages, but she refused, yet allowed him to walk her across the street Becket did most of the talking from what Chris could tell and he moved toward them, his body coiling tighter and tighter with every step. This was a stupid idea. Just seeing her near Becket brought to the fold that Victoria was here for one reason. To take that man back.

  "I haven't seen you in town before," Ivy League said.

  Liar. "I've recently arrived."

  "Aren't we fortunate then?"

  Victoria made no comment, yet smiled artificially, bid him

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