Lone Star Lover

by Debbi Rawlins

  “You put it here,” he asked, lightly probing the side of his head.

  Rebecca nodded. “And here.” She used her thumb to touch the corner of his mouth where a blister had been, and then promptly drew back.

  He had to admit, whatever salve she’d been applying had done the trick on his lips. Two days ago the blisters had been so bad it hurt to drink. “May I see it?”

  She quickly uncoiled a string attached to the pouch. “You don’t need any more. You’re healing fine,” she said, looping the string around her neck and tucking the pouch into her neckline.

  “Well, darlin’, now I’m really curious.”

  Very businesslike, she collected the old bandage and tape. “Doc Davis will be by later to look at this. We’ll wait to see if he thinks you need another bandage.”

  “You know, I think I could use a little more of that medicine on my lips.” He made a show of probing the one spot on the outside corner that wasn’t quite back to normal.

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “It looks very good to me.”

  “Stings a bit, though.”

  She hesitated, before drawing out the pouch. Then she went to the basin, giving him her back, while she ostensibly washed her hands. But he knew better…she didn’t want him seeing what was in the pouch. It took him a few seconds to decide if he wanted to force the issue, just long enough for her to produce the mystery salve on the tip of her finger without him seeing the source.

  He smiled, and lifted his chin for her ministration. At the last moment, before she applied it to his mouth, he caught her wrist and peered at the thick white milky substance. It had no odor, but there was something familiar about the consistency. He frowned, digging deep to remember where he’d seen it. “Ah.” He nodded. “Cactus sap, right?”

  She looked startled at first, and then fear filled her eyes and she pulled away from him.

  “Go ahead,” he said, pointing to his mouth. “You’re right. This is good stuff. Great for sunburns.” He added wryly, “Stove burns, too.”

  She didn’t move, just stared at him as if she thought he were mocking her.

  “My grandmother used something similar to this. She actually grew some in her greenhouse.” He smiled, acknowledging that Rebecca had no idea what a greenhouse was. “My point is, you’re right. It’s good medicine.”

  “Truly?”

  He took a dab off her finger and spread it on the blistered area. “It’s been working, hasn’t it?”

  Rebecca smiled, so big that her left cheek dimpled, and then she sobered. “Doc Davis doesn’t like me to use the sap. He calls it heathen medicine.”

  Jake snorted. Doc Davis had a whole shelf of so-called remedies that would be crucified in the journals of medicine in the future. But he wouldn’t be around to know that. And most likely, neither would Jake.

  The reminder of his bizarre circumstances depressed him. Was he destined to return? How did this whole thing work? If his fate was to change the history of the Rangers, then once his mission was completed did he get to return to the future? If so, how?

  Or would time forget about him. Leave him here to live out the rest of his days.

  “Your grandmother, where does she live?” Rebecca asked.

  “She died about eight years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “And your folks?”

  She looked stricken, and then agitated that she’d brought up the subject. “My parents and brother, they’ve been gone about five years now.”

  “I’m sure it’s been tough.”

  She gave a small shrug and, instead of returning the pouch to the safety of her bodice, she tucked it once again next to the basin. The sign of trust touched him.

  “I’ll put up some coffee and then go check with Cook about breakfast.”

  “Want me to come with you? No sense you carrying the food all the way up here.”

  She shook her head, pressing a hand to her stomach. “It’s not good for the Rangers to see you.”

  Damn, he hated to see the fear storm her face every time she spoke of the Rangers. He sure as hell didn’t look forward to admitting that he was a Ranger. She wouldn’t understand, and she’d likely lump him with the rest of those poor excuses for lawmen.

  “I take it they don’t know I’m staying here.” He was going to have to meet these men for himself soon. He hoped they weren’t all like that filth Corbin.

  “They do. Kitty made it all right with Captain Wade. She told him you were too sick to be turned out.”

  “Ah. He won’t share that opinion once he sees me.”

  She studied him for a second. “You don’t have a horse or gun or money. You’ll have to find work.”

  Jake nodded grimly. “Yep. That’s about the only thing I know for certain.”

  “The Rangers…they’ll ask you to work for them.” She didn’t seem the least bit happy about that prospect.

  “Doing what?”

  Pressing her lips together, as if she feared she’d said too much, she hesitated. “I’ll get your breakfast.”

  “Bring some for yourself, too. And don’t tell me you’ve already eaten. I know better.” He caught the defiant toss of her hair before she left the room, and smiled. Yeah, he had some nerve ordering her to do anything, but she didn’t eat enough. She was too thin and he’d even wondered if she’d been on some kind of hunger strike.

  He’d resorted to blackmail last night, refusing to eat the beans and cornbread unless she ate with him. She’d picked at her food, using her fingers to tear off small morsels of the cornbread and taking too long to chew and swallow. It occurred to him that she herself might be sick, yet she’d proven to be strong, and if that were the case, he doubted Kitty, who seemed protective of Rebecca, would have burdened her with caring for him.

  Man, he had so many questions. About the rustling and hangings, about what the hell a bunch of Rangers were doing to instill fear in the townspeople, about Rebecca and why she was here. And damn, he needed to talk to Slow Jim. He hoped like hell the guy remembered exactly where he’d found Jake. That piece of information could be his only clue to get home.

  There was no getting around it. Rebecca obviously wasn’t going to be happy about his decision. But Jake knew it was time for him to start circulating.

  REBECCA KEPT HER HEAD DOWN as she moved through the quiet saloon to the safety of the kitchen. Not a soul was in sight. Not even the occasional drunk who’d passed out and was left with his head lying on a table. Seven of the Rangers had ridden out a couple of hours before sunup. She’d known from Kitty that they were leaving, so she’d listened for them from the bed she’d made on the floor. The two men who’d remained were likely still asleep, or maybe even drunk.

  Cook was stooped over a large black iron pot, his back to her when she entered the kitchen.

  “Morning,” Rebecca said loudly so she wouldn’t startle the older man.

  He couldn’t hear in one ear, and only some in the other. Even now, he straightened his rounded shoulders, and stopped stirring as if wondering if he’d heard something.

  “Good morning, Cook,” Rebecca repeated.

  He twisted around and gave her a big grin. Most of his teeth were missing, and what were left were horribly yellow. A pair of ugly scars slashed across his left cheek and his gray hair was so wiry it stuck out everywhere. He’d nearly scared her to death the first time she’d met him, but Cook had turned out to be a very nice man.

  “You gonna be wantin’ some ham and eggs this mornin’?” he asked with a sly wink.

  She understood him completely. When Captain Wade was gone, the girls got to have more than biscuits and porridge for breakfast. “Yes,” she said, smiling. “I’d like a plate for my patient.”

  “Plenty enough for you, too, girly,” he said with a stern frown, and waving of his long-handled spoon. “It’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  She nodded her thanks, and hid her annoyance. Why was everyone worried about how much she ate? She supposed she shou
ld be more tolerant. No one understood how her life had been for the past five years. Cold nomadic winters, the scarcity of nuts and berries. Warriors and children ate first. Women made do with what was left. Rebecca had learned to exist on very little. Food wasn’t a problem now, there was always plenty here in Diablo Flats, but sometimes the diet she’d been accustomed to as a child living back East no longer agreed with her sensitive belly.

  She left the kitchen and hurried over to Doc Davis’s while Cook made their breakfast. Doc had told her it would be all right to take the book she’d been reading while she’d sat with Jake those two nights. She liked to read and was quite good at it. As a girl she’d always loved going to school and even thought she might want to teach one day. But that was a long time ago. Before she and her family had started out west. Before that wretched summer night five years ago….

  Oh, God, she had to stop herself from thinking about it or she’d be depressed for the rest of the week. She hesitated outside Doc’s door, squeezing her eyes shut, forcing the black thoughts from her mind. Instead, she went to the sunny place she’d learned to paint inside her head, with the clear blue skies and puffy clouds and colorful rainbows.

  Doc wasn’t around when she entered the sickroom. Mr. Otis was still lying face up, eyes closed, still as a rock, just like he’d been when she and Jake had left yesterday. Her heart ached at the sight of him, his throat still an ugly red. No one believed he’d broken the law, yet here he was, inches from death, according to Kitty.

  Rebecca glanced toward the door that led to Doc Davis’s living quarters to make sure it was closed. Her hand went for the pouch around her neck. It wasn’t there. Panic hit her, and then she remembered she’d left the cactus sap with Jake. Funny, because she rarely left the pouch off her person. But Jake had surprised her. He hadn’t scolded her, like the doctor had, or made fun of her like Ruby and Lola had done. Jake accepted that the sap was good medicine, and that made her like him even more.

  Her fingers went to her lips, and she lightly touched the spot where he’d pressed his mouth to hers. Simply thinking about the soft kiss brought a warmth to her chest that gushed like a swollen river to her belly. The unexpected surge of heat took her by surprise. She bit down on her lip, hard, shame demanding the punishing bite. She had no right to yearn for another man’s touch. To dishonor her husband this way was unforgivable.

  8

  JAKE HATED the tense silence that had accompanied their breakfast. As usual, Rebecca ate very little, only a small portion of the eggs and a biscuit. When she’d slid her slice of ham onto his plate, he’d tried to refuse, but in the end, he knew she wouldn’t eat it and he was still hungry. That’s how he knew for sure he was recovering well. His appetite had returned full force.

  “Thanks for making breakfast,” he said while he gathered their utensils and cloth napkins, and stacked their plates.

  She eyed him as if he’d done something unspeakable. “I’ll take those,” she said, scrambling to her feet.

  “I can wash them. Do we have dish soap?”

  She stared at him with blatant curiosity. “Washing is women’s work.”

  He laughed. “Ah, there’s a lot to be said for the good old days.”

  Not even a hint of a smile touched the corners of her mouth as she took the plates from him, carefully, almost as if she were trying not to touch his fingers.

  “Cook made our breakfast, so I’ll thank him for you,” she murmured, her eyes downcast. “Ruby, Trixie and I take turns washing dishes.”

  “I can help.”

  “No.” She adamantly shook her head.

  He sighed, not so anxious to pitch in, but feeling cooped up. Another sign he was feeling better. “How long have I been here in Diablo Flats?”

  She thought for a second. “Almost five days.” Then she made a face.

  “What?” He followed her gaze, looking down at his shirt, the one she’d altered for him.

  “It’s too small.”

  He tugged at the cuffs that were a half inch too short even with the piece of material she’d added. So was the hem, but it wouldn’t be noticeable once he tucked it in.

  “Kitty is getting me fabric. I’ll start sewing your new shirt this afternoon.”

  “This is fine.” He unsnapped his jeans and drew down the zipper.

  Rebecca gasped. Her eyes widened in shock, and then she spun around to avert her reddening face.

  “Hey, no.” He quickly tucked in his shirttails, snapped and zipped. “Rebecca.” He cupped his hands over her shoulders, feeling her tense. “I was just tucking my shirt into my waistband.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders seemed to melt beneath his palms.

  “You can turn around,” he said, and lightly squeezed, struck again at how fragile she felt. It wasn’t just that she was so slender, but she had really tiny bones.

  Is that what stirred his protective instinct? Even as drugged and weak as he’d been the day Corbin had shown up, Jake had been ready to drag himself out of bed and pound the guy to a bloody pulp. Naturally he never liked seeing a woman abused physically or verbally, but his reaction had been magnified that day yet he’d barely known Rebecca.

  She hesitated, and he had to give her a gentle nudge to face him again. Her cheeks were still pink, and it finally dawned on him that in her line of work, a man taking off his clothes shouldn’t faze her.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I shouldn’t have thought you would—” She gave her head a shake, and backed away.

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown.

  “Doing the kind of work you do,” he said, wishing he knew a gentler way to ask, and then wincing inwardly as shame filled her eyes.

  She immediately stared down at the floor. “I haven’t done it yet,” she said softly, her voice a thread below a whisper.

  “What do you mean?”

  She hugged her ribs tightly with one hand, bending forward slightly.

  “Rebecca.” He felt like crap for pushing but he had to know. “What did you do before you came to Diablo Flats?”

  “Please, I have to go. Cook must be waiting for me.”

  He caught her hand, and then urged her chin up until she met his eyes. “I know you don’t have to talk to me. None of this is my business. But you don’t belong here, Rebecca. Anyone can see that.”

  That she looked so sad and helpless tore at his insides. “I haven’t done it,” she repeated.

  “You mean, been with a man?” he asked, ducking his head because she’d lowered her eyelids.

  She hesitated, catching her lip with her even white teeth, biting down so hard he saw a speck of blood.

  “Hey.” Damn, what an insensitive bastard he was being. What the hell was wrong with him? “Stop.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her lip. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

  “I haven’t brought a man upstairs yet,” she murmured, moving her head back enough to break contact. He got the message and lowered his hand. “Kitty makes sure of it. She sends me to help Doc Davis.” She blinked. “But soon the railroad men are coming and the whole town will be busy and she doesn’t know if—” She shrugged her slim shoulders.

  Anger erupted hotly inside him. “You never have to bring a man up here. Do you understand?”

  “But the Rangers said—”

  “I don’t give a damn what they said.”

  She shrank back, her unblinking eyes round and wary.

  “I’m not yelling at you. I’m just frustrated. I want to help you, but right now I don’t see how.” Damn, that was hard for him to admit. Maybe learning humility was supposed to be his lesson in this journey. He hoped not. He didn’t do humility well. “You said something about the Rangers having work for me.”

  Rebecca stepped further back, adamantly shaking her head, her face flushed with a fierce protectiveness that startled him. “Jake, no.”

  Had he heard her use his name before? He didn’t think so. “I
know you don’t like the idea,” he said, moving closer and running his palm up her arm. “I don’t either, but the truth is, without money and a horse, I can’t help get you out of here.”

  “You want to help me?” she whispered.

  “Of course I do. This is no place for you.” He kept rubbing her arm, pleased that she hadn’t withdrawn from him.

  “I don’t know.” She looked torn. Hope lit her eyes, but only for a second before fear extinguished it. “I want to leave. I do. But these are very bad men.”

  “I promise you, I can take care of myself.” Hell, with his bruised ribs still healing, he was going to have to watch his temper and not get into a brawl. He wasn’t hotheaded like he’d been when he was younger. Ironically, being a Ranger had knocked some of the arrogance out of him. The behavior wasn’t tolerated. But this was a different time, and he suspected posturing and fists were often used in place of reasoning.

  She shook her head. “They could hurt you if you get in their way.”

  “Or worse, they’ll hurt you, and I can’t stand by and watch that happen.” Jake opened his arms to her. She had to come to him this time, of her own free will, showing she trusted him.

  Rebecca’s chin quivered. She looked as if she desperately wanted to believe he’d help her, but she couldn’t quite make that leap. He was about to drop his arms to his side, when she rushed toward him, throwing her arms around his middle.

  He gritted his teeth against the sudden pain. She’d obviously forgotten about his ribs, and no way would he let on that she’d nearly made him cry like a damn baby. He hugged her to his chest, and her arms lowered to his waist where they did less damage.

  She tilted her head back to gaze at him with glassy eyes. “I’ll bring you trouble,” she said softly. “Once you leave this room, you have to stay far away from me.”

  He touched her cheek. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Please, Jake.” She pressed against him, her shoulder digging in right where it hurt.

  He must have reacted without realizing it, because she gasped and abruptly drew back with a look of horror.