Walt released a knowing laugh. “For the record, Hank was opposed.”
“Who actually shot him?”
Walt shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. He had a lotta bullets in him.”
“Why did you let Saul punish Tess?”
Walt shifted his gaze to her. “Well, you was there, dear, when we arrived. It was mighty suspicious. I just thought Saul would scare her, set her straight .”
“Where were you when it happened?”
“I went to the barn. I drank too much. When I woke the next morning, I found Saul shot in the head inside the house. And Jim’s body was still there, too.”
“Where was Tess?”
“She was gone.”
“So who killed Saul?”
Walt paused. “I dunno. I’m thinkin’ now it was you, Tess.” He stared at her.
“You sonofabitch,” Cale replied coldly.
“Are you sure? Ask her.”
“I didn’t kill Saul Miller,” she defended. “Are you so certain he’s dead?”
“Well, somebody did,” Walt said. “He sure looked dead, and it weren’t me that did it.”
“How much did you have to drink?” Cale asked.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t that drunk. I’d remember.”
“Did you report the deaths?”
Walt licked his lips, then smacked them together. “Nah. I left and never looked back. I’m not stupid, Cale. I wasn’t taking the fall for two killins’ I didn’t have anything to do with.”
“That remains to be seen. So you haven’t seen Hank in all this time?”
“Nope. Been layin’ low. I heard from him, about two months ago. Told me to come here, and he’d share any riches he found. Wanted to patch things up, make it like old times.”
“Hank told you to come here?” Tess asked. “So you know where he is?”
“Not exactly. But now that you’re here, it might get easier. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see his little girl.” Walt put a slim stick in his mouth and started picking his teeth. “It’s gettin’ late. We best be turnin’ in.”
“You should stretch your leg,” Cale said to Tess. “I’ll walk with you.”
He stood and helped her to her feet, then snatched his holster and slung it over his shoulder, his guns in easy reach.
“Don’t get lost out there, you two.” Walt’s voice trailed after them.
Cale took Tess’s elbow despite the cane she leaned on. He needed to touch her. When they’d put some distance between them and the camp, Cale stopped.
“Do you believe him?” she asked. “Do you think Saul is dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Fitz said he saw him at Bowie. Could he have been mistaken?”
“It’s possible. After the attack, you didn’t see someone shoot him?”
“No. All I remember is Hank taking me to Tom and Mary’s the next day.”
“Then Hank must’ve done it.”
A dawning realization crossed Tess’s face. “Do you think, in the end, he tried to protect me?”
While the evidence might point that way, Cale didn’t want Tess’s hopes dashed again. “Maybe. But maybe not. Let’s not forgive him based on the words of Walt Lange.”
Tess’s shoulders sagged.
He stepped closer and waited to see if she would rebuff him. When she didn’t, he brought his hands down her arms and rested his lips against her forehead. He brought her fully into his embrace and held her close, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
He knew one wrong move and she might turn from him.
“I want you to sleep beside me,” he said. “I don’t like the way One Ear has been looking at you.”
She leaned back. “So it wasn’t my imagination?”
“No.” He ran a thumb along her jawline. He was so tempted to kiss her, but this wasn’t the place. It also didn’t help that his britches were fast becoming uncomfortable. If he indulged in a sweet taste of her, he’d not want to stop. He knew he needed to take his time with her, to ease her anxieties, to show her what it could really be like between them. Rushing would ruin it.
“Does it bother you,” she whispered, gazing at his shirt and not him, “that I’m not pure?”
He hooked a finger beneath her chin and gently prodded it up so she would look at him. “No. Not for a second.” He allowed himself one sweet, chaste kiss.
“You’re not like most men.”
“I’m glad you noticed,” he teased. Then, he sobered. “Don’t let your guard down around Walt. I don’t trust him.”
* * * *
The following day, they left the valley and climbed along a ridgeline, the sun beating down. Pinon pines and juniper offered cover and occasional shade, but Tess found herself half-dozing as she trailed behind Cale. Walt and One Ear rode ahead of him.
Gunfire erupted, and Gideon reared, slamming her onto the ground. As the horse twisted, she barely moved in time to miss the hoof that struck the dirt beside her head. She rolled again to escape the distressed stomping and, without warning, tumbled over the edge, rolling down the hillside. Desperately, she tried to stop her descent, but it was too steep.
Tess slid and tumbled, hitting rocks and clusters of branches. Dust filled her mouth and eyes. Her hands grasped in a futile effort to stop her fall. She bounced against an outcropping, flew through the air, and landed with a painful thud. Stunned, it took a moment to realize she’d stopped.
As she lay on her side, twigs and pine cones filled her vision, and her breath trembled in short bursts from her mouth. She searched for a coherent thought , but none came.
Finally, her mind seemed to right itself.
I need to stand.
Fear consumed her. Surely, she couldn't have survived that fall without something truly awful having happened to her body. She closed her eyes.
I don't want to know.
Her mind flashed to a similar memory, when Saul had left her, beaten and bloody, on the floor of that cabin.
I'm stronger now. I can face this.
Tess pushed herself into a sitting position, grunting from the discomfort. It hurt to breathe. Carefully, she touched her ribcage, wincing. Maybe a few ribs were broken. Bracing herself, she lifted her skirt and fought back the urge to expel the contents of her stomach. The drawers covering her injured leg were bright with bloody splotches. With despair she saw that her leg was even more contorted than normal.
She cried out as excruciating pain hit. Her leg was most certainly broken.
What if I never walk again?
A sob wrenched from her throat.
No. She wouldn’t give in to this. She'd survived far worse. She could do it again.
She froze at the snap of a branch, instantly going silent. From the side, she caught movement in the trees.
“I know I saw somethin’.” The woman’s voice registered in Tess’s mind.
Who?
“It's a woman,” a man's voice said.
Henry and Mariah Worthington appeared. In a panic, Tess tried to stand on her right leg, but a jolting pain caused her to collapse. As she fell, she saw the couple approach.
“Well, if that don’t beat all,” Mariah said, a cold speculation in her gaze.
“Don’t hurt me,” Tess pleaded.
Mariah shook her head. “You look pretty banged up already.”
Tess struggled against the darkness narrowing her vision. Terror gripped her. If she passed out, Henry and Mariah might just kill her.
But try as she might, her eyes wouldn’t stay open.
* * * *
Tess awoke. She lay in a bed, in a room barely big enough for the cot and a nightstand. Her head hurt and her broken leg throbbed. As she tried to move it, she felt a splint against the knee, holding it stiff and unmoving. She licked at dry lips but there was no moisture to wet them.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a glass of water on the nightstand. She reached for it and managed to take a drink, wiping at the water that ran down her cheeks.
“I want to see her.”
Cale.
His voice came from the other room.
“Cale.” Her voice was hoarse. She tried again. “Cale.”
The door opened, and he came to her bedside. “Thank God I found you.” He clasped her hand.
“Where am I?”
“You're at Vern Blight's house.”
“Who?”
“He lives here in the Dragoons.”
“I saw the Worthingtons.” She tried to rise up from the bed but Cale eased her back down.
“It’s all right,” he said. “They found you and brought you here.”
“I was sure they’d do me in.”
“Apparently Mariah thought the same thing, but Henry talked her out of it. They knew of Vern’s cabin and came here. It was a good thing you were passed out. I don’t think they were careful when they threw you on a horse.”
“Who set my leg?”
“I guess it was Vern. At least, that’s what he told me.”
Through the open doorway, shafts of sunlight illuminated the wall above Tess. “What happened?”
“We were ambushed. Gideon spooked and threw you.”
Her hand found his again. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
Cale’s gaze softened. “I’m fine.” Leaning over her, he placed a kiss on her forehead.
Her hand came to his cheek, and she indulged touching him as he pulled back to watch her. “The horses and Moses?”
“I recovered them in the valley. They’re fine as well.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. What about Lange and One Ear?”
Cale braced his weight on his left arm, his expression solemn. “I’m not sure. I lost track of ’em. I was pinned down for a time from gunfire, but once I was able I backtracked to find you. By then, the Worthington’s had brought you here. I followed their trail.”
Alarm slammed into Tess. “Are we safe?”
“As safe as we can hope to be. Vern’s been here since the days when the stage stop at Dragoon Springs was active. The Apache seem to leave him be. In fact, he’s got an Apache couple living on the property and looking after the place.”
“Are Henry and Mariah still here?”
Cale grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes.”
She stared at the slatted wood of the ceiling. “My leg...”
“Will you let me have a look?”
Her eyes met his, and she nodded.
He lifted the blanket and examined the splint. Finally, he set everything right again.
Tess wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear his assessment. “It's bad, isn't it?”
“Actually, your leg might heal better now. Blight has set it straighter than it was before.”
“Really? Is he a doctor?”
“No, but Henry said he's saved many an animal's leg, that it’s almost magical the skills he has. He doesn't believe in putting an injured creature down.”
“So I'll have the leg of a horse when this is all done?” She tried to laugh at her own jest, but her chest was too sore.
“Maybe. Will you let me have a look at your ribs?”
Hesitating, she finally forced herself to agree with a nod.
He gently pushed aside the blanket and gingerly touched her left rib through the thin nightgown someone—Vern Blight, she guessed—had placed on her.
Cale tugged the blanket back into place and covered her. “He wrapped your ribs which should help with the healing. I’m sorry I couldn’t have helped you, but while I’m not a man to put much faith in God, some type of Divine Providence was looking out for you yesterday. Without Vern, things could’ve turned out much different for you.”
His statement surprised her. “I’ve been here a whole day?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to do?”
Cale clasped her hand again. “You're not going anywhere. I think we're stuck here for a bit.”
She considered the ramifications. “Are you going to look for Hank without me?”
“I could.” He watched her. “But I won’t.”
Relieved that he wouldn’t leave her behind, she said, “I’ll try to get better as quickly as I can. I promise.”
This time he kissed her on the mouth, and gratitude welled up inside that he was safe, along with an immense happiness that he hadn’t left her behind. She responded to him, rising to meet his lips, holding him to her with hands at the sides of his face.
“Thank you for not leaving me,” she whispered.
“It scared the life out of me when I couldn’t find you after the attack.” His lips came to hers again. “Let me try to rustle up some food.”
Cale left the room, and Tess brought her fingertips to her mouth. She could still taste Cale on her lips. For now, it was enough, but eventually he’d want more. Despite her growing comfort with him , would she ever be at ease enough to explore Cale and what was between them without succumbing to a terror that she seemed to have no control over?
She wanted to believe she could.
Because she surely wanted Cale, wanted to lie down with him as a woman did with a man. But what if Saul had ruined it for her? What if she would never be able to separate any man from the bone-deep fear that Saul had pounded into her body and soul?
Chapter Seventeen
Cale stepped out of the house onto a narrow porch. Vern Blight didn’t have a large home, but it was surprisingly well-kept and nestled beneath a grove of tall oaks. Water ran in a nearby creek, and a sturdy barn stood by a corral about thirty feet wide. Blight had a collection of animals—a few horses, goats, sheep and a passel of pigs. Cale had an inkling there were others in the barn, from the noises emanating. There was also a decent-sized garden beside the house. The Apache couple lived in a wickiup down near the water.
Cale was impressed that Blight had chosen to stay on after the stage station was abandoned. Initially the man had made a living providing food and horses to the Butterfield Stage Company, but later decided he liked it enough to remain without the steady income. He said he continued to trade with the Apache, and it kept relations on an amicable keel.
Cale scanned for the Worthingtons, but Vern said they’d departed to camp farther up the canyon. He wondered if he should check on them, especially after the Apache attack, but decided they’d have to fend for themselves. He had no intention of leaving Tess unprotected.
Her leg was in bad shape, and moving her would be impossible for a bit. Bruises dotted her face, and a nasty gash lined her forehead.
Despite it all, relief settled into his bones.
She lived.
When he’d managed to get free of the gunfight, worry had soon turned to desperation when it was clear that she’d fallen and he couldn’t find her. But then he discovered this oasis nestled beneath a cloak of trees as if a secret haven. And Vern Blight had given the use of his home. Despite the oddity of the situation, Cale didn’t think Blight the bad sort.
Vern emerged from the barn and walked toward Cale. The sun was high in the sky, and a sheen of sweat covered the older man’s face. He removed his floppy hat and wiped his forehead with the back of an arm. Vern was short and bow-legged . He must’ve been a teamster in the past. “How's she doin'?”
“Fine, thanks to you. I'm grateful. It may take some time for her to recuperate.”
“Not a problem. But I ain't got another bed. You two married?”
“No, but I can sleep on the floor. Won't bother me. I want to be close in case she needs something.”
“Do you wanna get married?” Vern’s lips spread into a toothy grin.
Cale laughed. “Maybe. Do you have a missus?”
“Nope. Had one a long time ago, but she ran off. Said she went crazy livin' in the hills alone. Guess it just doesn’t suit some people. I got my animals, and I like ’em a lot more, so I’ll stay in the barn with ’em. They don't run off. Just die sometimes.”
“I’m obliged. If I can help out around here in any way, let me k
now.”
Vern raised an eyebrow. “Hmph. I’ll think on that. You’re a lot taller and stronger than I am.”
“What’s the status with the Apache in the area?”
Blight let out a huff. “Well, see, it’s like this.” He shifted the wad of tobacco in his mouth and turned to spit. “I don’t bother them, and they don’t bother me. I’m happy to help you and the girl, but I won’t be tattlin’, if you get my drift.”
“I do. Loyalty is an admirable trait, and one that’s likely kept you alive all these years. Can I ask if you know the whereabouts of an Irishman named Hank Carlisle?”
Blight let out a bark of laughter. “That ol’ coot is a crazy one.” He shrugged. “Can’t tell you where he is, though. You ever been in the Dragoons before?”
Cale nodded.
“Then you know the shadows run deep, and the wind whispers over your shoulder, makin’ you think you’re hearin’ voices. This was Cochise’s stronghold. They say after he died, his warriors painted his body yellow, black and vermilion, then buried him in a rocky crevice. No one knows where it is, and those that do, aren’t talkin’. I’ve no doubt there are ghosts roamin’ these canyons. It’s easy to lose your way.” He spit again. “You plannin’ on taking the girl in when she’s better?”
Cale nodded again.
“You got Apache blood in you?” Vern asked.
“Of a sort.”
Vern smiled. “Then I think you’ll do just fine.”
* * * *
Tess awoke and immediately wished she could sleep again. Her leg pulsated with pain. Cale entered the room, carrying a lantern.
“The pain is bad,” she said.
“I thought it might be. I have other remedies, but for this I think you should take laudanum.”
She didn't have the strength to argue. He set the lantern on the night table and went to retrieve the medicine. He gave her a spoonful of the bitter liquid and a cup of water, of which she drank only a little due to another pressing problem.
“Cale.” She averted her eyes, embarrassed by the next request. “I need help with...personal matters.”
“There’s an outhouse, but I don’t think you’re up to it.” He knelt and pulled a chamber pot from beneath the bed.
Mortified, she closed her eyes. “I think you’re going to have to help me.”
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