“Where is he?” her brother asked. “I have an idea about spying on the Culpeppers that—”
“Case is right here,” she interrupted.
There was a short silence.
“Oh,” Conner said. “Uh…”
“Yes. Uh…” Sarah repeated sardonically. “Now, would you mind letting us wake up in peace?”
“Well, shoot, how was I supposed to know?”
“By using your head for more than a hatrack,” she shot back.
“Are you, uh, all right?”
When she heard the combination of love and protectiveness and embarrassment in her brother’s voice, her irritation evaporated into affectionate laughter.
“I’ve never been better,” she said.
“Aren’t you going to ask after me?” Case said blandly. “Your sister is a mighty fierce woman.”
“Case Maxwell, if you weren’t too big to paddle, I’d—” she began.
“But I am,” he said across her words. “So you won’t. Go on in, Conner. We’ll be along shortly.”
The boy’s laughter came back through the thicket like a second dawn. He was still laughing when the cabin door finally closed behind him.
There was no laughter in Case’s eyes.
“Sarah,” he began.
“No,” she interrupted.
“What?”
“No. Just plain no. Don’t ruin it by telling me how you don’t love me. I know you don’t. I don’t need to hear the words.”
He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the pain in hers.
And in his own.
“We can’t do this again,” he said, his voice tight.
“Can’t?” She laughed raggedly. “You’re as hard and full of life as ever. Don’t talk to me about can’t.”
He could hardly argue the point. He was pulsing against her hip as though he hadn’t had a woman in years.
“All right,” he said through his teeth. “We must not do this again.”
“Why?”
“I could make you pregnant!”
She shivered and shifted her hips slightly, measuring his readiness.
“No doubt about it,” she agreed.
“Then I would have to marry you, and—”
“Why?” she interrupted.
He stared at her as though she had gone mad.
“I’m a rich widow, not a poor virgin,” she said matter-of-factly. “Besides, next time I’ll use what Lola gave me.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
“Then it’s not pregnancy you’re really worried about, is it? What’s wrong? Didn’t you enjoy what we did?”
Case’s mouth shut with an audible clicking of teeth.
Even beneath his beard Sarah could see that his jaw muscles were clenched.
“You know damned good and well I liked it,” he said through his teeth. “Hell, I more than liked it. It’s the best I ever had.”
Or ever will have, he acknowledged bitterly to himself.
“Then there’s no problem.” She smiled brightly at him. “Come on, lazy man. Let’s go see what kind of cook Morgan is. Unless you’d rather see if we get better with practice…?”
With a muttered curse Case shot out of bed. He dressed quickly in the cold air. His speed was helped by the fact that admiring gray eyes were memorizing every inch of him.
“Get dressed,” he said.
“I can’t find my drawers or chemise. What did you do with them?”
He looked around with something close to desperation. Her chemise peeked out from the foot of the bedroll. Her drawers were dangling from a low branch of sage, flung there by a hand that had had better things to do than worry about tomorrow.
While he gathered her underwear, he remembered peeling off soft, warm muslin and finding ever softer, hotter flesh beneath. Hastily he tossed the garments in the general direction of the top of the bedroll.
A naked, elegantly feminine arm came out from under the covers and dragged the underwear beneath, where it was warm.
Warm, hell, Case thought. She’s a fire in winter. I’ll die remembering what it was like to sink into her.
Salt and sweet, all woman, hot honey on my tongue, on my body. Winter fire burning just for me.
A shudder of raw hunger went through Case. It was all he could do to stuff his unruly flesh into his pants.
“Need some help?” Sarah asked.
Humor and admiration and memories ran through her husky voice like heat through flames.
“I’ve been dressing myself for some years now,” he said roughly.
“How about helping me? I’m just a beginner.”
The sensual teasing in her voice made his blood run even hotter.
“So was Eve,” he muttered, “but she learned quick enough.”
Case looked up in time to see his words quench the laughter in her eyes.
“Sarah,” he began.
This time she didn’t interrupt. She simply disappeared. The blankets seethed and rippled as she dressed beneath them. Very quickly she emerged fully dressed but for her boots.
“In the interests of keeping Conner from knowing how much you dislike me,” she said evenly, “could you try to be civil to me in front of him?”
“I don’t dislike you.”
“Fine.” She yanked on her right boot. “Then being civil to me shouldn’t be a problem.”
Her tone of voice told Case that she didn’t believe a word he had said about not disliking her.
“Men don’t spend nights like that with women they dislike,” he said tightly.
“Of course.”
She jammed her left foot into the other boot and stood up quickly.
“Damnation, listen to me!” he snarled.
Cool gray eyes cut over to him.
“I’m not only listening to you, I’m agreeing with you,” she pointed out.
“But you don’t mean it.”
Cinnamon eyebrows arched in two elegant, disbelieving curves.
“If you say so,” she murmured.
“What?”
“I’m being agreeable. You should try it. Just for the practice, of course. I won’t expect it when Conner isn’t around.”
Case took a grip on his temper. Then he took a deep breath and another, tighter grip.
She was like nettles under his skin.
Rather distantly he wondered where his usual discipline had gone.
Memories of taking Sarah and being taken in turn went through him like hot black lightning, telling him just what had happened to his self-control.
I never should have done it.
But he had. Now he would spend the rest of his life regretting it. Winter seemed so much colder when he knew that there was a fire burning just for him.
Just beyond reach.
It must stay that way.
Beyond reach.
“Have you seen Conner?” Ute asked.
Surprised, Sarah turned from the pot of beans that was bubbling over the fire. She had just finished slicing one of her hoarded onions into the pot, along with several of Ute’s lethal green chilies.
She hoped they would burn Case’s mouth.
What am I complaining about? she asked herself wryly. This morning I asked him to be civil to me, and by God, he has been.
He’s been so civil he makes my back teeth ache.
And so distant.
She sighed and resumed stirring the beans.
Ute cleared his throat.
Sarah jumped. She had forgotten that he was there, waiting for an answer.
“I haven’t seen Conner since breakfast,” she said, hoping her blush would pass unnoticed. “Why?”
At least Conner didn’t tease me about Case. Other than a grin that split his smug face, of course.
Saying nothing, Ute looked at the pattern of sunlight cast across the dirt floor by random holes in the chinking. The light was a rich, buttery yellow.
Late-afternoon light.
“Breakfast, huh?” he ask
ed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked sharply.
He shrugged, but she wasn’t fooled. She had become very good at reading the older man’s weathered, falsely angelic face.
“Ute,” she said.
She didn’t have to say any more.
“He was due up on the rim two hours ago. When I didn’t come in, Lola come along to see what’s what. She’s up there now, taking Conner’s turn so I can rest and eat.”
Frowning, Sarah gave the beans a final stir and added a stick of wood to the fire.
“Maybe he’s with Case,” she said. “They’ve been doing a lot of six-gun work together.”
“I looked. Ain’t there.”
Uneasiness rippled through her.
“It’s not like Conner to miss his watch,” she said.
“Yep. That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Where is Case?”
“With his brother, planning ways to bury Culpeppers.”
“What about Morgan?”
“Spying on Culpeppers.”
Silently she added another piece of wood to the fire and watched the flames bite into the branch. She wiped her hands on her flour-sack apron.
“I’ll look for him,” she said.
“Figured you would.”
“Is someone watching Lola’s goats?”
“Ghost.”
“Hope he doesn’t lose that black and white one again,” she muttered.
Ute paused on his way out the door.
“Weren’t the dog’s doing,” he said. “That she-goat is plumb contrary. Minute Ghost chases one herd quitter, she high-tails it in the other direction.”
“You always stand up for that dog.”
“Been a stray myself. Hard life.”
The door shut behind him.
Instantly Sarah’s expression changed, showing every bit of the fear she felt. She had just remembered what her brother had said that morning.
I have an idea about spying on the Culpeppers.
“Conner,” she whispered. “You weren’t foolish enough to go alone, were you?”
With a tight movement she yanked off her apron and hung it on a nail.
“Morgan is watching the Culpeppers,” she told herself aloud. “He won’t let Conner do anything foolish.”
The words seemed to echo in the room.
Conner.
Foolish.
She ran outside. The door banged behind her. She didn’t notice the bite of the wind or the sting of tiny snowflakes whipping across her face.
“Conner?” Sarah called. “Where are you?”
Blindly she ran toward the clump of tall sage where her brother had set up his camp.
“Conner? Conner!”
The wind brought her cries back to her, mocking her as she had been mocked once before, when she called out to the darkness and flood for her younger brother.
I found him then.
I’ll find him now.
His camp was empty, but his saddle was still there, still waiting to be used as a pillow.
“Conner! Answer me!”
Nothing answered but the wind.
Strands of hair ripped loose by the wind lashed across her face. She caught the hair and hung on to it, twisting it through her fingers like a lifeline.
“Not now,” she said. “Not when I’ve finally found the silver for you! Where are you? Conner! Conner!”
She was still calling her brother’s name when Case spun her around and wrapped her in his arms. Hard.
“Easy, honey. Easy. Get hold of yourself and tell me what’s wrong.”
Only when his gentle, velvet voice penetrated her fear did Sarah realize that she was screaming her brother’s name again and again.
“Is Conner with you?” she asked hoarsely.
“He’s up on the rim.”
“Are you certain? Did you see him up there?”
“No, but he knows when it’s his turn to stand watch.”
“He didn’t go.”
“What?”
“Lola is on watch. Conner never showed up.”
Case turned and looked over his shoulder.
“Hunter?” he asked.
“Haven’t seen him,” Hunter said.
“Morgan, what about you?” Case asked.
“No, suh. Nary hide nor hair.”
“Morgan!” Sarah said.
She jerked herself free of Case’s arms and turned to face the black gunfighter.
“Why aren’t you spying on the Culpeppers?” she accused. “You’re supposed to be there!”
Warily Morgan glanced at Case.
He was looking at Sarah as though she were a stranger.
“Take it easy, honey,” he said. “Morgan is following Hunter’s orders.”
She closed her eyes as though to shut out everyone, especially Case.
“Did he talk with you about spying on the Culpeppers?” she asked tightly.
“Conner?” Case asked.
It took every bit of her self-control not to scream at him that of course she was talking about her brother.
“Yes,” she said in an unnaturally calm voice. “He’s the only one missing, correct?”
Case looked at her as warily as Morgan had.
“If you say so,” he said carefully, “then Conner is missing.”
“I say so.”
The bleakness in her eyes made him want to hold her again.
“This morning…” she said. Her voice went from hoarse to silent. “This morning, Conner said he had an idea about spying on the Culpeppers.”
Morgan said something scalding under his breath.
Hunter’s mouth flattened into a grim line.
“Go on,” Case said.
“There’s nowhere to go,” she said. “Conner had an idea and now he’s gone.”
“Morgan,” Hunter began.
“I’m on my way.”
“I’ll go with you,” Case said.
“So will I,” Sarah said.
Both men turned to argue.
Three quick shots from the rim cut off whatever the men were going to say. There was a pause, then a fourth shot.
“Company,” Case said tersely.
“Just one,” she said.
“Just one showing,” Hunter countered. “Case, stay with her. Morgan, come with me.”
“Ute will take the cottonwoods,” Sarah said. “He always does when Conner is gone.”
Hunter nodded. He and Morgan left for the brush behind the house at a trot, weapons in hand.
“Don’t worry,” Case said. “Hunter won’t let us be outflanked.”
“I hope Lola doesn’t shoot them by mistake.”
“She’ll never even see them.”
Shivering, Sarah said nothing.
“Where’s your jacket?” Case asked.
“In the house.”
“Of all the fool places for it to be,” he muttered, peeling off his own jacket and holding it out to her.
She was already heading for the cabin at a run.
He suspected it wasn’t the jacket she was worried about, but her shotgun.
He was right.
When she reappeared a moment later, there was a shotgun in her hands. She was wearing her jacket more as a means of carrying extra cartridges than for warmth. The pockets bulged with ammunition.
“Don’t show yourself,” Case said.
“But—”
Sarah’s words were cut off as he dragged her into the cover provided by brush and boulders.
“You won’t do Conner any good dead,” he said curtly.
Case pulled out his spyglass and began watching the trail down from the rim. In tense silence she waited.
“It’s Ab,” he said.
“Alone?”
“As far as I can see.”
A prickle of unease went over Sarah’s spine. There was something in Case’s voice that made her cold. She searched his face, but saw nothing.
Then he lowered the spyglass and turned toward
her. His eyes were as empty as death.
“He has Conner’s hat.”
All color left her face. She swayed as though she had been struck.
He reached for her, only to have her push his hand away sharply.
“I’m all right,” she said.
Her voice was as empty as his eyes.
“Likely your brother is still alive,” Case said neutrally, “or else Ab wouldn’t parade in here alone with his hat.”
A shuddering, sawing breath was her only answer.
“Let me talk to Ab,” he said.
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Stay out of sight,” he added. “Ab can be…unreasonable…when women or kids are around.”
Sarah made a harsh sound that could have been a laugh.
“Unreasonable,” she said bitterly. “That’s like describing hell as a passably warm place.”
“I’ll stand where you can cover Ab without shooting through me.”
“Stay close enough that I can hear.”
It wasn’t a request. He knew he could stay close or she would follow him and to hell with her own safety.
He didn’t blame her. If it had been Hunter whose hat was in Ab’s hands, Case would have done the same.
Swiftly he made a diagonal path through the brush to a place where Ab would pass close by on his way to the cabin. He loaded both barrels of the shotgun, cocked it, and waited with the patience of death.
Ab made no attempt to hide himself. He rode brazenly down the trail, holding Conner’s hat like a shield in front of him.
And it was.
No one would touch Ab until Conner’s fate was known.
Nothing has changed, Case thought bleakly. Peace or war, vultures still follow the Culpeppers.
Conner isn’t their first hostage.
But by God he will be their last.
“That’s far enough,” Case said. “State your business.”
Ab took his time about stopping the mule. His pale blue eyes searched every bit of cover. He couldn’t see the man behind the voice.
“You ain’t very neighborly,” Ab said.
“Keep it in mind.”
With deliberate movements, Ab pulled a plug of tobacco from his pocket, gnawed off a hunk, and began chewing.
Case waited.
By the time Ab was halfway through his chaw, it was clear that Case wasn’t going to start any conversations or make any foolish moves.
“All right,” Ab said. “I got her brother. I want her silver. We’ll swap even up.”
Winter Fire Page 30
